“Kissmass Yights!” & Gratitude

“Kissmass Yights!” & Gratitude

The receipt checker, as I exited Sam’s Club, muttered beneath her breath, “I might just kill someone today.” The woman directed this comment to me while nodding at the back of the man who’d cut in front of the line with nothing but his receipt in hand. My children were with my mother, and for once, I was not stressed while grocery shopping, even though the crowds were aggressive as they grabbed the final items they needed for their Thanksgiving feasts, like Black Friday had come two days earlier than planned.

I admit that I felt mildly transcendent as I left. Everyone was so frazzled, and I was basking in the sunshine and smiling at grandmothers with their grand babies as I pushed my cart out to my snazzy minivan.

Well, I should’ve known better than to stick my nose in the air.

Thanksgiving Day was glorious. The evening before, I had prepared deviled eggs and washed the fruit I was supposed to take, so we had a leisurely morning before we left at 10 o’clock. Though the interstate resembled the autobahn and our brakes started doing funny things a few miles from our destination, the hours spent with my family and my best friend’s family were relaxing and heart-warming.

We ended the night by singing hymns, and our girls had so much fun, our two-year-old started crying, “I don’t wanna go bye-bye!” as we loaded her into the car.

Unfortunately, this crying did not stop, and our four-year-old soon joined in. We were driving for about forty-five minutes when we come upon a detour that forced us to drive an extra thirty. There’s nothing quite like being trapped in a car with screaming children when you know you’ve no choice but to keep going.

My husband, gripping the steering wheel, said, “This has to be the hardest stage ever.”

But then, something happened as we followed the caravan of out-of-town traffic down back country roads. Our daughters started shifting their attention from their misery to the Christmas lights festooning the houses. Though their voices were still thick with tears, they began squealing with joy.

Our relief, as parents, was palpable.

And as the miles passed, and we finally found the interstate again, the car quieted as our girls fell asleep. I glanced back at them as we drew closer to home: their angelic heads were tilted in the same direction as they snuggled their blankies.

My heart swelled, but then I thought that true gratitude wouldn’t just be grateful once the car is quiet and my girls are asleep. No, true gratitude would be grateful that my children are screaming safely in our car, and that I have a husband who can drive us, and that our brakes started giving us trouble earlier in the day (allowing him time to fix them) and not during this switch-backing detour in no-man’s land.

True gratitude would focus more on the beauty of the day and less on the detour we’d had to take to get home that night. True gratitude knows that just as beauty is fleeting, detours and inconveniences are momentary as well. But sometimes those inconveniences can provide a scenic drive in the country and a two-year-old and a four-year-old stopping crying long enough to squeal, “Kissmas Yights!”

Gratitude is all about perspective. Let us keep the right one this year.

How are you going to focus on gratitude, even if life sometimes gives you “detours”?